Kiss and Make it Worse
by Kitskune Miyake
Summary: Bart finds himself questioning his sexuality, and it's freaking him out. He goes to his best friend Tim to hopefully confirm that he is indeed straight. Broken HummingBird Tim/Bart


It's ridiculous how much fun I had writing this. Seriously, who takes this much fun in ruining their OTPs and sending such lovely characters through personal hell?

Dedicated to not Savannah, because her weak heart will die if she reads this.

Disclaimer: I don't own YJ. Obviously.

* * *

A short rap at the window jarred Tim awake. Only five people could reach that window without suffering horrible consequences from one of the many traps around Wayne Manor, and three of them lived within said estate. The other one was familiar enough with the Waynes to use the front door, even at this hour. That left only one possible person who was brave and stupid enough to disturb his beauty sleep on one of the few nights he didn't do patrol…

"Bart!" he hissed as he opened the window. Traces of the stormy night blew in, and the soaked speedster hopped into the warm, inviting room. Tim Drake's room was just as opulent as the rest of the manor, complete with a four-poster bed and Persian rug. Aside from the poster of Batman and Robin and a couple of humming laptops strewn across the giant teak desk, there were no traces of the resident's true personality.

"Hey, Tim," the redhead responded, his voice demure so as to not awaken the master of the house. "Sorry to do this to you so late at night. Were you asleep? Dumb question, you probably were." He shook his head, letting the beads of rainwater soak the other.

"What are you doing here?" Tim asked as he fished through his closet for a towel. He tossed one at the other boy, who deftly caught it and started toweling off the raindrops.

"And I actually _did_ send you a text saying I was coming, but you should be getting that right about now." Bart popped open his wrist compartment, checking his phone. "Oops, well, the message actually never sent. Stupid dinosaur wasn't getting reception, I guess. I don't get why you guys can't spring for a better one, what with this obvious load you're sitting on."

"What are you doing here?" Tim repeated, unfazed by the rambling.

"Hey, do you think your clothes fit me? I'm soaked and still pretty cold. Though your room's really toasty." He zoomed into the closet and appeared back by the bedside, clutching a T-shirt and pair of shorts. "This'll probably do." Before Tim could ask him again, he zoomed past into the bathroom. A freshly changed Bart Allen popped back into the room a few seconds later. "There, all better."

"You still haven't answered my question," Tim told the boy tiredly. "It's two in the morning; why aren't you back at Mount Justice, or with Uncle Barry or somebody?"

Bart's bouncy smile faltered. "I—it's complicated," he finally said, jumping onto the bed.

"Well, now that I'm awake, I have time to listen." Tim sat carefully on the edge, mindful of the other's habit of moving a lot. _Bruce is gonna kill me_ he thought to himself. _Even though Bart knows and won't reveal our identities, he's gonna butcher me for having a speedster over this late at night. This is just like every time Wally snuck in for a surprise sleepover, and oh God this won't end well._

"I dunno if I should be telling you this. Wouldn't want anyone feeling the mode. And who knows if what I say affects future generations of—"

"Bart, if you aren't going to say anything useful, please leave before I call in Bruce or Dick or—"

"NO!" the speedster finally reacted. "I mean, I guess it can't be that bad, telling you." Bart curled up, carefully tucking himself like a perched owl. Tim turned to meet his eye, but Bart refused to look back.

"I was out on patrol with Barry earlier today, and we ran into a little trouble. Nothing big really, just some kids out after curfew, drinking and stuff like that. We found a couple of them trying to break into some poor family's house, and I have to say they were doing a shit job of it. I mean, even if Gramps and I weren't there, the dad was already creeping down with a shotgun. We actually might have saved their lives; the guy looked ready to shoot them. I mean, you know that crazy look in people's—" Tim shot him a look. "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

"Yeah, just a bit."

"Well, anyways, the idiots ran—why do they even bother running? I mean, superspeed versus whatever they run. Do they seriously think they stand a chance? Anyways, they split up and went down different streets. So Barry went after one and I went after the other—at normal speed though. Just to show I could catch him without speed. Anyways, so I thought the guy panicked and got lost or something, because he ended up in a dead end. I cornered him, started gloating a little." He stopped, swinging his legs over the opposite edge of the bed. "I'm an idiot. I always complain when they gloat, so I shouldn't have been so dumb as to do it myself. Shouldn't have been so cocky…"

"Bart?" Tim crawled over the bed towards his friend. Bart turned his eyes down, refusing to look his friend—probably his best friend in this time period—in the eye.

"It wasn't so bad," Bart lied. "He only managed to kiss me before I punched him." He smiled weakly, trying and failing to look like the incident didn't bother him. "But—" He stopped, like the words were catching in his throat.

"Bart, what's wrong?"

"God, it's so wrong. I—I _liked_ it. I mean, sorta…" Bart's voice was choked and painfully quiet. For once, Tim struggled to hear the other boy. His friend buried his face into one of Tim's pillows, refusing to meet his friend's eyes.

Tim carefully laid a hand on his shoulder. "Bart? Look, that doesn't matter—"

"Of course it does!" His head lifted, turning to face his concerned friend. Tears were threatening to leak from his eyes, and there was a mess of emotions tumbling under the surface, threatening to break through. "I mean, the future is decently tolerant of these things, but I _know_ it isn't nearly as accepted here. What if everyone finds out and they all hate me and—"

"Now you're just being stupid. Nobody hates superheroes for being gay. I mean, it's not like they care, as long as we're out saving them. For what it's worth, I don't care if you're gay or if that was a fluke or—"

"A fluke! Yeah, it was totally a fluke. Just…heat of the moment or hormones or whatever. Yeah, definitely." He couldn't even reassure himself with his words.

Tim sighed, shifting so he was lying next to his friend. "Look, if you want, you should test it again. Just to see if it really was a fluke." Bart turned to face his friend, his eyes widening at the implication. "Not that I'm gay or anything! Just that…you're my friend. I don't like seeing you all wound up like this."

"Yeah, cuz bros totally kiss other bros," Bart laughed nervously. He fell back on his back. "But seriously dude, if it's crash with you—and _only_ if it's totally crash—"

"Dude, I'm here for you, even for the…weird stuff. Especially for the weird stuff." Bart fidgeted, still unsure about the proposition. Tim puffed his cheeks out slightly, trying to find a way to convince his friend to either kiss him or get over it. He pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard. There might be one story he could use…

"Look, even _Bruce_ used other guys when he was doubting his sexuality. He figured out that it was a one-time thing, so he got over it and walked away with better peace of mind." The brunette speedster sat up and gave him a startled look.

"You mean _Batman_ did the dirty with—"

"No! He just messed around a little with a Leaguer and figured that it wasn't his path."

"A Leaguer! Which one?"

"…I really shouldn't say…"

"Dude, you can't just bait me like that. Tell me, or I'll go outside real quick and ask Bruce-fucking-Wayne myse—"

"AlrightfineitwasBarry." Tim closed his eyes, waiting for divine retaliation to kick his ass, or even worse _Bruce him-fucking-self_.

Bart was sure his eyes couldn't go wider, but they did. "No way…you're lying. You're totally messing with me. Batman and _my grandpa_—"

"Alright, just stop! All I'm trying to say is that even the most heterosexual man can be a bit…curious. And as your best friend, I'm here for you."

"But Bat—"

"Not. Another. Word," Tim forced through clenched teeth. _God, please just drop the subject._

"Fine." Bart relaxed again, splaying his limbs so he took up an absurd amount of space. Tim scooted slightly, sliding so he was half lying down, half upright. "So, how would this work?"

"What?"

"Kissing you. I mean, obviously no strings attached unless we feel something." He sat up and crawled towards the acrobat-hacker. He had the boy between his legs, one arm on either side. Their faces were mere inches apart, bright blue meeting vibrant green. Both were nervous but curious, anxious but intrigued. "May I?" Tim nodded, closing his eyes and leaning forward to bring their lips together.

Bart was shaking—not vibrating, _shaking_—in anticipation. He closed his own eyes and tilted his head slightly so their noses weren't touching. Gently, carefully, they broke away for only a moment before Bart dived back into it. He brought his hand up to Tim's face, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Bart could feel his fingertips tingling at the contact; everything felt like pure joy was coursing through his veins. Tim was just as passionate. He moved his hands to Bart's shoulders, excited by the physical contact.

Bart started pushing forward, gently dragging his tongue across Tim's lips. The other boy readily opened his mouth, letting the speedster in. They pulled closer together, savoring every bit of contact they could get. Bart lowered himself so he was sitting on Tim's lap and automatically moved his hands to the boy's waist. Tim moaned breathily against his lips in response, shifting so the brunette wasn't crushing him too much. Hands roamed bodies, sending sparks at each desperate touch. _Oh God_ Bart thought. _Fuck, he's good_.

Tim's hands flew into the brunette's hair, taking a firm grasp in the soft locks. They were still slightly moist from the rain, but they felt so good, so _right_, in his hands. He ran his fingers through, dancing them along the nape of the other's neck as if he was playing an instrument. He felt the speedster shiver then _holycraphe'svibrating!_ He bucked his hips unwillingly, moaning slightly against the other. _Fuck, this has gone too far_.

Suddenly, Bart's body felt cold. He whined as Tim pulled away, pushing him back. Both boys were breathing heavily. Bart could feel the blood rushing in his cheeks, and Tim had a slight blush dusting his cheeks.

"So?"

"So what?" Bart replied, still a bit dizzy from the kiss. _Hot damn, that was…just wow_.

"Did you feel anything? I mean, like attraction or turned on or something?" Tim was careful to keep his tone even. He wasn't looking at his friend anymore; he couldn't meet Bart's eyes, not after reacting the way he did. _Please say yes. Please say it wasn't only me_.

Bart shifted off the other boy, sensing the turmoil beneath the surface. _Shit, he's embarrassed. I shouldn't have made him do that. He's not gay, and he's just so embarrassed and…shit, I screwed up._ "No," he said simply, not trusting himself with more words. "You?" _Please say yes. Please say it wasn't only me._

Tim hesitated. _It really only is me. Shit, this is bad. I can't risk alienating him, but God that was so good. But he doesn't feel anything for me…crap, I can't put that pressure on him. He's still my best friend…_ "Nah. Just…got a bit out of control. You know…hormones and stuff."

"Yeah, hormones." He laughed nervously. The two lay next to each other for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, refusing to talk or make eye contact. Tim could feel his heart slowing down, but the crushing realization that Bart might just be _the one_ was kicking his poor heart to smithereens. _Damn those speedsters…always making Bats fall for them…_

"Well, I gotta go. It's pretty late, and Gramps might be worried." Bart got up and walked towards the window. "That was…interesting. Sorry about making you do that."

Tim sat up. "It's okay," he replied too quickly. Mentally, he slapped himself; _why not sound more desperate, why don't you?_ "Just…whenever you need me—"

"Yeah." He turned to face his friend. "Night, Tim." _I love you_. He climbed down the wall, careful to avoid trigger bricks or other booby traps. As soon as he hit the ground, he tore out of the property, wanting to put as much distance as he could between them.

Tim got up and walked towards the window. "Night, my love," he whispered to the empty lot and the studded sky.

* * *

Personally, I'm not a fan of the kiss scene, but I think it could have been worse. This is coming from a never-been-kissed, all-my-experience-is-fanfiction person.

Comments? Critiques? Suggestions? Care to share how you reacted as the fic progressed?


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